


what you call love

by historymiss



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:13:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24287935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/historymiss/pseuds/historymiss
Summary: 'and it isn’t a dream, or a wish, or some cruel vision, but only, at last, after all this time, reality.'I finish my She-Ra In Bed fic suite, I guess?
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 98





	what you call love

Catra has dreamed of this moment for so long that it’s hard to believe that it’s real. There’d been little tastes, before- sleeping close at the Rebellion camp, the way that Adora had crept into her room on Darla and sat, silent, as Catra pretended to sleep. 

Catra had pretended to be happy with that. It was all she deserved, after everything she’d done. The distance between them had been so carefully created, and Catra was just _fine_ with it, right up until she could no longer claim she was. Until she held Adora in her arms and felt the power of She Ra rising in her like the sun. 

Even then, she hadn’t hoped for this. Adora asleep, sprawled out in front of her, relaxed and happy in a way that renders her both beautiful and strange all at once, is a dream that Catra had thought she’d lost years ago. A lifetime ago. She’d done so much to destroy it, and yet, just like everything else, it had come back to her. Undeserved. Unearned.

Catra scratches at the fur still growing back at the nape of her neck, claws tracing the ridge of the scars that lie like ropes under the fuzzy new growth. 

She closes her eyes and lets out a breath, something light, uncracked by joy or grief, simply comfortable, and climbs onto the foot of the bed to curl up at Adora’s feet, just as she used to before everything began.

Adora’s hand stops her, resting lightly on her wrist.

Even blurred by sleep, her voice is full of a drowsy kind of joy that Catra has never heard before, deep and comfortable as a purr.

“Nu-uh. Up here.”

Adora tugs on Catra’s arm and leads her to lie down at her side. They curl up together, Adora’s arms around Catra, and Catra settles into her embrace, and it isn’t a dream, or a wish, or some cruel vision, but only, at last, after all this time, reality.


End file.
